


Trust

by justfandomthings



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Bromance, Case Fic, Gen, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Sickfic, made by a suspect which is not tolerated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justfandomthings/pseuds/justfandomthings
Summary: Much to the dismay of his overprotective partner, a sick Callen refuses to take leave from work. As expected, his actions have consequences.





	Trust

“G, you look like hell,” Sam commented as he entered to find his partner slumped in his chair at his desk, looking like he was just barely able to concentrate on the documents in front of him.

“Thanks, partner. Real flattering of you to say.”

“I mean it, you look pale.” Sam leaned closer, squinting at Callen before he dropped his bag onto the top of his desk. “ _Sick_ pale.”

“Well, considering I'm pale to begin with, I don't really think you can say you can tell if I'm 'sick' pale or not.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, unamused.

Callen didn’t bother to say anything further, knowing it would only serve to make Sam hassle him further. 

“Hey guys,” Kensi called as she and Deeks entered in unison with each other. She took one look at Callen and frowned. “You alright?”

“No,” Sam replied as Callen said, “Yes.” They frowned at each other.

“Mr. Callen,” Hetty said smoothly from her usual sneaking-up position. “A word?”

Callen sighed silently and stood, following her without saying a word. With them out of earshot, Deeks muttered, “Uh, is it just me or is Callen ill?”

“He was here when I got in,” Eric announced from halfway down the stairs. "He looked tired."

Sam looked up at him. “You weighing in on this too?”

Eric flushed. “No, I was actually coming to say that we’ve caught one. And then I heard Deeks say that Callen looks ill so I thought-”

“You’d weigh in?”

“No… Yes?”

Callen appeared from Sam’s north, headed for the stairs. “Let’s go,” he called. “The case won’t wait for gossipers.”

_And now it’s like he never was pale at all._ Sam sighed, following his partner up the stairs with Kensi and Deeks on his heels. He’d ask again later, see if after some time Callen would be willing to change his tune about being fine when they both knew he wasn’t.

*****

“G, you sure you okay?” Sam asked as he pulled the Challenger to a stop at the curb in front of the house of their low-man-on-the-totem-pole suspect.

“Fine,” G said shortly.

Sam sighed. “Explain that sheen of sweat on your forehead then.”

“It's hot.”

“Yeah, outside, but I had the AC on.”

“Well, I was hot.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Why can't you just admit you aren't feeling well?”

“Because I'm not.”

“Did you-”

“I'm not sick so I can't admit to feeling unwell, now can I?”

“Tell that to Hetty when she goes all mother-hen on you.”

G stopped just before the door, looking at Sam with an eyebrow raised. “Why would she do that when you've been motherhenning me all morning?”

Sam looked aghast as he knocked. “I have not!”

“‘G, you look unwell! G, you look pale! G, you're sweating!’” Callen mocked. “Why don't you just come out and ask me-”

The door opened and a startled man looked at Callen, then looked at Sam and exclaimed, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Sam said just as Callen said, “Yes.”

They stared at each other. “Federal agents,” Callen said, smirking slightly at Sam’s flushed face as he reached for his badge and turned his attention back to the man. “We just have a few questions-”

The man whirled, threw the door in their faces, and could be heard running through the house. Callen sighed. “Always so difficult,” he complained as he turned the knob and threw the door open.

“I got the back,” Sam called, leaping off the porch and running around the side of the house.

_Terrific, a runner is the last thing I need_ , Callen thought to himself as he ran through the kitchen and through the adjacent back door. He looked both ways and saw the man and Sam were nowhere in sight. Jogging, he looked down at the grass and saw the grass was returning to its original form.

_Gotcha._ Callen grinned triumphantly as he ran through the grass to the end of the yard. He leapt the fence, pausing at the top to get a higher vantage point before he spotted a dark form rounding a corner. Hopping down, he took off in pursuit.

“Eric, Nell,” he called, “Tell me I'm going in the right direction.”

“You are. Were.” Eric sounded annoyed. “There’s a security camera a block north of where you are but it's down. We lost sight of Sam.”

“Lucky for you, I got eyes.” Callen caught glimpse of Sam’s dark t-shirt a half block away and sprinted after him. But instead of following down the same street, he took the first alley and ran to the other end, stepping out in front of the other street just in time to raise his arm and knock their man down.

“What took you so long?” Callen smirked to Sam, pulling his gun and aiming it at the man groaning on the ground. “Don't move.”

The man moaned.

Sam leaned down and pulled the guy up, snapping cuffs on him before he pat him down. “I think he misheard ‘ask a few questions’ for ‘we’re here to murder you.’”

Callen laughed. “Must be because if the police came up to me and said they wanted to ask me some questions, I wouldn't be running.”

“Seems like a dead giveaway for being guilty.”

“You know, I agree.” Callen pat the man’s shoulder. “Guess this is your first time, huh? Don't worry, we'll go easy on you.”

The man turned his head and spat at him. “ _Fag.”_

Callen wiped his shoulder calmly. “Thanks, so kind of you.”

Sam stepped forward, glaring at the man. “That was a mistake.”

Callen laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder, easing his partner simply at the comfortable touch. Sam stepped back, his shoulders still set tensely but his eyes less hard in the wake of his partner as he sighed and said,

“Alright, let's go. G, if you would do the honors?”

Callen took their prisoner's arm, leading him back to his house as he said, “Let's see what you have at your house, what's so incriminating that you felt the need to run when we showed up.”

*****

“I don't talk to fags,” Victor Spencer spat at Callen as he sat down across the table from him.

Callen shrugged. “You just did.”

Kensi turned to Sam, as did Deeks. “Why does-”

“G and I were talking when Spencer opened the door. He interrupted Callen’s statement and thought that we both were gay,” Sam said shortly.

“Because…?”

“Because Callen said to ‘come out and ask him.’” Sam glared at Deeks, daring him to tease him. “We were interrupted before he could finish but he was going to tell me to ask him if he was sick. I know it.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Deeks winked at Kensi knowingly. “Well, since our resident houseguest is homophobic and apparently thinks you and Callen both are gay… maybe I should have a crack at him?”

A door slammed and Callen came storming down the hallway. “All yours,” he snapped to Deeks as he leaned against the counter.

“Not a fan?”

Callen looked at Kensi. “Let's just say one of us is a decent human being and the other hasn't learnt the word ‘acceptance.’”

“Not all of us can be as decent as you,” Sam teased.

“Decent? Oh, I'm much better than decent. I'm amazing. I'm perfect.” But even as he said it, something in his expression changed before it was masked by a look of determination.

Sam stepped closer, looking concerned. His partner was beginning to look pale again. But not just pale. The way he was leaning against the counter suggested he was feeling weak, as if he needed the support to stand.

Decision made, Sam grabbed three chairs, arranged them in front of the monitor, and gestured for Callen and Kensi to sit as he sat down. “G, bring the popcorn,” he commanded. “This should be good. Deeks, do your thing.”

Deeks cheered, grabbing the file from Callen. “Marty Deeks to the rescue!” he yelled, jogging down the hallway.

Kensi took a seat to Sam’s left, but Callen didn't move away from the counter. Sam glanced over his shoulder at his partner. “G, you coming?”

“We don't have popcorn,” Callen said slowly, sounding distant.

Sam laughed, standing and making his way over to his partner. “See, you are stubborn. I say something and you're stubborn enough to try to do it even without the ingredients. Just for that, I might just go to the store and get popcorn, just for you.”

Kensi snickered. “You two sure you're not married?”

“He's not pretty enough for me,” Sam retorted as he threw his arm around Callen’s shoulders. “I know you're not feeling well. Come sit down, okay?” he murmured into his ear.

Callen turned to look at him, wide-eyed, and Sam started at how close their faces were. Callen looked surprised before defeat flashed across his features and he nodded. Playing the part to keep his cover, a pout appeared on his face.

“You don't think I'm pretty? You're mean.”

Sam laughed, guiding his partner over to the chairs. “I never said that. I'm just saying you don't hold a candle to Michelle.”

They sat down in their respective chairs but when Kensi turned to look at the monitor, Callen leaned over and tapped Sam’s arm, the gesture clearly done out of gratitude.

Sam nodded at him, silently relaying that it was okay.

Kensi burst out laughing, pointing at the monitor. Sam and Callen turned their attention to the monitor just in time to see Deeks slamming the door shut.

“Unbelievable,” Deeks called, sounding annoyed as he stormed down the hallway.

“Trouble?” Kensi struggled not to laugh.

Deeks folded his arms over his chest. “He said I looked gay! I mean, there's nothing wrong with being gay but does having this hair make me look gay?”

Kensi stood, walking over to her partner to rub her hands in his hair. “Don't worry, I like your unruly locks. Now, step aside and let me take care of this.”

Callen smirked tiredly at Deeks as he plopped down in Kensi’s chair. “Welcome to the gay club.”

“That is not a nice man.”

“No, he's not,” Sam agreed, recalling the way the man had spit on his partner. “I'm ready to nail his ass.”

“Well, hopefully, he can tell us who he sold the papers too.” Callen frowned. “If not, hopefully, the twins can do their thing.”

“The twins have done their thing,” Eric’s voice cut in, the picture on the monitor being overtaken to show Eric and Nell sitting together. “We did some tracework, watched some security, ran a search through Kaleidoscope, and we think we found the guy who Spencer sold the papers to.”

“Great. Deeks, get Kenz. Eric, we got an address?”

“I've sent it to your phones,” Nell responded for him.

“Let's go.” Callen leapt for his feet and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, looking back at Sam. “Come on, slowpoke.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Who runs more around here, you or me?”

“You. But that's because you need practice in order to stay good at running.” Callen smirked triumphantly as he headed down the stairs.

“Practice?” Sam stared at his partner’s retreating back. “I don't need practice. I'm always in shape, unlike you and all that junk food you eat. I mean, who eats lollipops and tootsie rolls on a stakeout, huh?”

His only response was Callen's laughter.

*****

“G, what were we just discussing?”

“The crane?” Callen made a face. “No, the swan!”

Sam didn't look amused. “Your eating habits.”

Callen popped a tootsie roll pop into his mouth. “What about it?”

Sam stared at him. “You're insane,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Callen laughed. “What?”

“Why don't you get some rest and I'll watch, let you know if our guy comes out.”

“You're just doing that because you don't want to watch me enjoy my candy."

“G, I'm trying to look out for you. Everything I say is in your best interests.”

“Uh huh.” Callen leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes briefly. “So, about that conversation on the porch…”

“Don't start that again!”

“Start what?” Callen asked innocently. “I was just going to say that if you were interested in men-”

Sam glared at him.

“I’d be the man you'd fall for.”

Sam continued to glare at him.

Callen felt his stare and opened his eyes, raising an eyebrow at him. “ _Deeks?”_

At that, Sam shuddered. “Don't ever say that again.”

Callen laughed. “Eric?”

“Fine.” Sam grit his teeth together. “It would be you.”

“I knew it!” Callen cheered. “See, I'm your favorite.”

Sam just looked at Callen, sighing. His expression was blank but his eyes were betraying his amusement. And his agreement that yes, Callen was his favorite.

Someone cleared their throat over the earwig. Sam and Callen both started, looking through their respective windows without comment.

“So, I'm offended. Eric, how about you, buddy?”

“A little,” Eric admitted. “Sam, I really thought you and I had something.”

Callen smirked. “Sorry, boys, you just aren't as special as me.” His eyes were closed again, Sam noticed.

“Sorry to rain on this parade but we've got incoming,” Kensi said.

Callen’s eyes snapped open and he looked out his window, hand automatically moving to his gun. “On my count.”

The man shut the front door and locked it.

“Now.”

Doors flew open as the team moved in. “Federal agents, don't move!” Callen called.

The man dove to the ground.

Callen and Sam moved in unison, stepping back as Callen shouted, “Get down!”

Gunshots erupted from inside the house, causing windows to be shattered as bullets came raining down on the agents. The team ran behind the two nearest cars, exchanging gunfire. With the team occupied, the suspect bid his time and got to his feet, running down the sidewalk away from the battle.

“Cover me,” Deeks commanded, holstering his gun.

Three ‘got its’ chorused as the team fired at the house. Deeks took off in pursuit. Callen knew Kensi would want to go after her partner to provide backup so, with a shared look with Sam, they both stood up and began firing, giving Kensi cover to follow her partner down the street.

In the following lull of gunshots, Callen peered out from around the back bumper of the car. “Sam, cover me,” he called, standing and dashing for the tree. They needed a second vantage point if they were both going to come out of the gunbattle alive.

The lack of gunshots coming his way proved to Callen that his partner had had his back. From his vantage point behind the tree, Callen slowly peered out. Sam was standing tall, making himself a target, and when the man stood in the window to aim at Sam, Callen shot him.

But there was a second man.

Catching sight of him at the last second, Callen stepped out in front of the tree and fired an instant before the man could have, his single gunshot wound proving fatal as the guy fell backward limply.

“G!” Sam yelled.

There was a single gunshot fired and Callen turned his head to look at the doorway, where a man was falling backward, a gunshot wound in his chest and the gun still clutched in his hand.

Callen nodded at Sam, a silent thanks shared between them.

“I got you,” Sam said, advancing towards the house with his gun aimed forward. They approached in unison with each other, kicking away weapons as they went.

“I got you first,” Callen replied, taking the right as they stepped into the house together, taking care to make sure they were alone in the house. “Clear,” Callen called, having checked the living room, kitchen, and basement.

“Clear,” came the response as Sam approached from the hall. Standing together in the living room, they holstered their weapons and went to the coffee table to search for the missing documents.

“Kenz?” Callen questioned in the silence.  

“He's dead.” Her voice was curt. “He took a shot at Deeks.”

“I'm good, thanks for asking,” Deeks chimed in.

Callen gave a weak smile. “No problem.”

Sam called his name from across the room, gesturing for him to look at what he had found. Callen took a step in his direction and faltered, feeling like his legs couldn't support his weight. Determined to not show his vulnerability, Callen continued walking and then placed one hand on the table casually when he got there, as if supporting his weight naturally as he leaned over.

“Three documents are missing from this pile,” Sam said grimly. “We have nine of twelve.”

“Check around. It's possible they were reading it somewhere. And send Eric pictures of the documents, figure out which ones we're missing.”

Sam nodded, doing so. Callen began his walk around of the room, accessing which seats had been occupied and whether there were papers there, nearby, or not. He had just gotten to the seat by the window when his vision was filled with dark spots. Grabbing the arm of the sofa to steady himself, he stood still for a moment until his vision cleared.

“G?” Sam gave his partner a concerned look.

Callen looked at him. “What?”

“You okay? You look…”

“Resigned to the grim fate of searching this entire house from top to bottom for our three missing documents?” Callen nodded. “That's because I am.”

Sam didn't look convinced but didn't argue with him. “Fine. Eric says pages six, nine, and eleven are missing. I’ll check the desk,” he muttered, already walking away.

Callen nodded. They searched in silence for a few minutes until a creak on the stairs of the porch made them both whip around, reaching for their guns.

“Whoa!” Deeks exclaimed, hands raised in the air as he appeared in the doorway. “It’s just us!”

Both men relaxed, tucking their guns away back in their holsters. “Announce yourselves next time,” Sam said gruffly.

Deeks looks chagrined slightly. “Sorry.”

“Get your gloves on,” Callen directed. “We’re trying to find our missing documents. Kensi, you look in the bedrooms upstairs. Deeks, go with, search the office if you find it. It's a longshot but it’s necessary.”

They nodded at him, heading for the door.  “You know, I’ll never understand bad guys,” Deeks complained as he headed for the door. “If you stole military-grade documents, why would you keep the documents in a home? Why not just lock them up in a safe or something like that? Somewhere hidden where you’d be the only one who’d know where they are?”

“Probably because we’d be expecting them to do exactly that: hide the documents in a safety deposit box. Not in a well-fortressed home,” Callen responded.

Deeks sighed loudly from the stairs. “Makes sense,” he decided, and then headed upstairs with Kensi on his heels, calling over his shoulder as he went, “I’m gonna check the guest bedroom, see if they have anything up there if I can't find the office.”

Neither man responded, although both cast a look in Deek’s direction that signified that he had heard the detective. “Any luck?” Callen asked Sam, noticing darkly that his voice had wavered ever so slightly at the end of ‘luck.’

“It’s like they knew we were coming,” Sam sighed. “The desk is full of bills, blank pieces of paper, newspapers, magazines, and various documents ranging from layouts of buildings to maps to-”

“Not our documents?” Callen interrupted.

Sam sighed. “No.”

“Or here.” Callen straightened up slowly and winced internally at the way the room spun as he did so. He must have shown an outward emotion because Sam frowned at him and went, “You okay?”

Callen waved the question away absently, turning slowly to get a better look at the room. He saw something poking out from under an armchair and went to investigate, getting on the floor on his hands and knees as he reached out, trying to grab whatever it was.

His vision swum.

Swallowing hard, Callen leaned forward a bit more so he could reach. “Gotcha,” he said triumphantly, leaning back to look down at the papers held in his hand.

“G?”

“I found ‘em.” Callen counted the papers. “All three of ‘em.”

“Three and nine make twelve,” Eric said in his ear. “Nicely done.”

“LAPD is on their way to secure their house. Wait for them and then head back to OPS for the debrief,” Hetty commanded.

Callen gave a sound of acknowledgment and then made an effort to stand. But when he tried, he only managed to stand for a moment before his legs gave out from under him. Stumbling, he grabbed hold of the armchair in order to remain upright.

Across the room, Sam looked at him worriedly. “G?”

Callen waved him off. “Fine.”

“Yeah? Cause you look like you're gonna pass out on me.” Sam stepped closer, eyeing him carefully.

“I'm fine, Sam,” Callen said sullenly. “Just got headrush from standing up so quickly.”

Sam gave him a dark look. “And I suppose that flush to your cheeks and the fact that you're sweating is all because of the exertion of kneeling down, right?”

“Exactly.” Callen let go of the armchair, making a move in the direction of the door, aka, in the direction of where his partner was standing, only to utter a very small sound of pain when his vision darkened.

“G,” Sam’s voice was soft and then suddenly so much louder and closer. “G!”

Callen opened his eyes- when had he closed them?- and found that his knees had buckled, that the only thing keeping him from being spread out on the floor was his partner’s arms around his waist. Callen blinked owlishly. _What happened?_

“Eric, I need an ambulance! G’s down!” Sam ordered loudly, his voice harsh in the otherwise silent home. Callen managed to look up at him for only a moment before a wave of fatigue swept over him and he had to close his eyes.

“Was he shot?” Kensi gasped. From above them, running footsteps could be heard.

“No, he's sick, he's semi-conscious, he needs an ambulance!” Sam said sharply.

“One is on its way, Agent Hanna,” came Hetty’s collected response.

“S-Sam?” Callen whispered, blinking through a fog so he could see his partner. He was still in Sam’s arms, he realized, Sam keeping one arm under his back and another around his waist, holding him gently but firmly to his body.

“Shut up,” Sam snapped at him. “Why didn't you listen to me? I told you, you were sick and you just ignored me! Would it have killed you to admit that you weren't feeling well? It's not a weakness, everyone gets sick! Even you!”

Callen looked away as Deeks exclaimed from the doorway, “Callen?”

“There was a case,” he whispered. “Couldn't leave you...without backup…”

Sam stared at him. Callen’s eyes closed.

“Hell no, you're not passing out on me,” Sam said grimly, shaking his partner lightly. “Come on, stay awake, G. Ambulance is on its way, you're gonna be fine. Hear me? Show me those baby-blues.”

At that, Callen’s eyes flickered open. He managed a weak smirk. “Knew it,” he whispered. When Sam gave him a look of confusion, he clarified, “Knew I was your husband.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “And that’s the fever talking.” He moved his arm that was around Callen’s waist so he could bring his hand to Callen’s forehead. He frowned at the heat rolling off his partner in waves and then, because he could, he gently brushed his fingers through Callen’s hair, hoping that the gesture comforted his partner and reminded him in his fever-induced state that he was not alone. It seemed that sheer determination had kept Callen from showing sooner just how poorly he was feeling because, now that they were out of danger, it appeared that his body had given up the fight to remain strong out of pure exhaustion. 

“Mom?” Callen moaned. He stared up at Sam unseeingly, the fever making his eyes an even darker blue in their haze.

In the doorway, Deeks looked embarrassed and stepped back. “I'm gonna look for the ambulance,” he announced. He was gone before Sam could acknowledge his statement, not that he was listening to begin with.

Kensi then took his spot in the doorway, only to flush and step back when Callen began to try to sit up, mumbling still, “Mom?”

“No, G, it's me,” Sam tried to say, watching his partner with worried eyes. “I'm right here.”

Callen stirred restlessly in his arms. He didn't say anything, but he appeared to be uncomfortable in his own heat. His head turned limply to the side and then he turned the other way, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as his forehead came in contact with the coolness of Sam’s leather jacket.

Noticing this, Sam shifted his position so he was seated on the floor more comfortably. He then leaned against the back of the armchair, shifting his hold on his partner so Callen could press closer to him- to his jacket.

Callen did exactly that, practically nuzzling Sam’s chest through his jacket as he hid his face in the cool leather and exhaled deeply. The action reminded Sam of his daughter and the way she had done the same thing to him when she had been younger and sick with a high fever. Paternal instinct kicked in and he brought his hand back to Callen’s forehead, brushing his fingers through Callen’s hair as he murmured a few instinctive words of comfort.

In his arms, Callen stopped his fidgeting and slumped, his body losing some of his tension as he allowed Sam to hold him. “You're okay,” Sam promised, “It's just a fever. Nothing you can't handle. You're gonna feel better and be talking my ear off in no time.”

A wordless sound escaped Callen, perhaps, an acknowledgment, Sam thought, before he went even laxer in his arms. _This is his way of showing his trust,_ Sam realized. _G doesn't let himself appear vulnerable to anyone, but right now in his fevered-delirium, his subconscious isn't fighting me. He's just letting me hold him despite knowing I could do anything to him when he's in this state._

He couldn't think of a more powerful display of trust that G could give him. And he would prove to G that he was worthy of that trust, so rare and so precious when it came from his partner.

“Medics!” Deeks called from the porch. A few moments later he appeared in the doorway with two paramedics high on his heels. They rushed into the room, ignoring the bodies of the dead criminals, and knelt on the ground beside Sam.

“Sir, we'll need you to set him down so we can examine him,” the female paramedic said gently to Sam.

Sam hesitated for a moment and then relented, relinquishing his hold on his partner slightly so he could ease him to the ground. At the new action, Callen gave a sound of discontent and perhaps even fear, struggling to sit up on his own once his back made contact with the floor.

“You're okay, we're paramedics, we're here to help you,” the female paramedic soothed. “You're okay.”

Callen only stared up at the ceiling through drunken, fevered eyes. He understood the situation, perhaps, even in his fevered-delirium, but the fear of being alone seemed to be more powerful than the fear of the illness. “Sam,” he groaned.

Sam moved closer and, at the paramedic’s nod of approval, got into his partner’s line of sight and took his hand. “Right here, G.”

Callen made eye contact with him and then closed his eyes. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Sam understood. G was trusting him to ensure his safety.

“Looks like just a virus, maybe the early stages of the flu if he's unlucky,” the male paramedic decided. “But he's dehydrated and his fever is too high for comfort so we’ll bring him to the hospital for a full examination. They'll probably keep him overnight, or at least until his fever lowers and he's hydrated again.”

Now Callen’s eyes were wide open. He looked wildly around the room, visibly relaxing when his eyes came to rest on his partner. Sam squeezed his hand gently. “I'm coming with,” he told the paramedics.

They both nodded as one. “Of course."

With an IV placed in Callen’s hand- the agent being too dehydrated for the paramedics to find a vein in his arms- and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, Callen was lifted onto the stretcher. Throughout the process and as they carried the stretcher to the ambulance, Sam never let go of Callen’s hand.

“Callen?” Kensi asked quietly as they passed her and Deeks as they headed for the ambulance.

“He's going to be okay,” Sam responded. “You're in charge, you know what to do.”

“We'll clear the scene and then join you,” she replied.

Sam nodded at her, approving of the plan. By that time they were at the ambulance and so he had to pull his hand away from Callen’s in order to help the paramedics lift the stretcher into the ambulance. But at the loss of contact between them, Callen moaned and began to fight once again to sit up.

He managed to sit up but only made it halfway off the stretcher before Sam was able to coax him to lay back down by saying, “I'm right here, G.” Although Callen clearly couldn't see him from where he was, the sound of his voice seemed to be enough for his partner, because Callen laid down on the stretcher without putting up a fight.

By then the female paramedic was situated in the back of the ambulance so Sam jumped in after and sat down, taking his partner’s hand quickly with a quiet but comforting reassurance of, “‘M right here, G, you're not alone.”

That was the last thing Kensi and Deeks heard before the ambulance doors shut. The last thing they _saw_ before the doors closed was Callen visibly slumping in relief, gripping Sam’s hand tightly. Sam just covered his pale hand with his own, silently letting his partner know he was there for him.

Deeks looked at his partner. “I want that,” he said, for once, completely serious.

Kensi looked at him. “Don't you already?” She hesitated, as if unsure of why her partner thought he didn't have with her whatever Callen and Sam had in each other. “With me?”

He shook his head. “I want _that_ , where all of my defenses should be up because I'm weak and, therefore, vulnerable and an easy target…” He looked longingly at the ambulance, perhaps a bit hurt as well. “I want that, what Callen has with Sam, where I'm in a situation where I should definitely trust no one...but I trust my partner to not only see me _that_ vulnerable, but also to keep me safe from any and all threats.” He looked amazed. “Sam’s broken through his walls. Callen may not open up to him much, but I don't think there's anyone he trusts more than Sam.” He walked away, leaving Kensi at the front of the car to process his words.

In the ambulance, Callen lay there weak and half out of it. But each time he went through the motions of wanting to panic, he would see his partner and would be reminded that he was safe. And then he'd let his eyes close, allowing Sam’s murmuring to wash over him gently like a lullaby:

_I got you, G. You're okay. I'm here. You're gonna feel better soon, I promise. You're safe._

And he knew he was.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> The friendship between Sam and Callen always makes me smile. So far, this is the first fanfic for NCIS:LA that I've written, but I doubt it'll be the last. This show is my favorite and I love the friendship between Sam and Callen so I highly expect to be struck with inspiration sometime soon for a new fic. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
